


Renegades III The fate of Prospero

by gothikuk



Series: Renegades saga [3]
Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Gen, Gore, Heresy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3452438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothikuk/pseuds/gothikuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Teach Magnus a lesson, The Emperor and Lorgar have charged Angron with destroying the Thousand Sons home world but to bring Magnus and his powerful inner circle back alive.</p><p>Horus and his remaining brothers are now aware of what has occured and whilst the shock settles amongst the Primarchs that are not privy to the Emperors plans, The Wolf King and Crimson King, much to everyones' shock and surprise; head off towards Prospero before Angron and his war hounds can get there.</p><p>Will the violence of the Rout be a match against the Gladiatorial bred warriors of the World Eaters?</p><p>Will Magnus be able to save his people and his world from his deranged brothers' full on bloody attack as well as deal with his own fathers betrayal of all he believed in?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They had been told since they had entered the service of the Crimson King that the Great Ocean was to be feared and respected, and those that respected it would find it easier to travel and to be fair so it had been for a number of years, until now.

Captain Alim of the Thousand Sons Battle Barge The Great Traveller had his doubts, like the other Thousand Sons who were scattered the Imperium over on the Great Crusade he was finding it difficult to plough through the Warp to reach Prospero. The waves of the Empyrean were churning violently and the Geller Field around his vessel was barely holding her own.

At first it had been calm and then the closer he got to the exit point that would put him within a day of Prospero, it was like someone had flipped a switch and the calm ride became a great storm. The blast shields were down saving the sensibilities of the human crew, there were things that resided in the Great Ocean that would drive a normal human insane.

Alim held onto the arm rests of his command throne and cursed slightly as his vessel was buffered like some child’s toy. He could barely believe the summons that had come from the Crimson King; his beloved home world was going to be attacked,

He had thought that the Space Wolves had finally been unleashed against them and tried to think what punishment could warrant the sons of Russ coming to bring the Emperors Justice upon their heads. However, when he had been told the Space Wolves were with them he had been stunned, like his warriors of the 23rd Fellowship and wondered if his father had finally succumbed to warp madness.

There was no love lost between the Rout and the Psykers of the Astartes, in truth their animosity ran deeper then many believed, and there was nothing that Alim feared more then a Space Wolf in full frenzy. However, when he learnt who was going to be attacking his home world he had cursed a thousand fold.

How dare the Red Angel and his deranged sons provoke an unwarranted attack on the beautiful world of Prospero and it made him more determined to ride this wave to the land of his birth. Angron and the World Eaters would find the sons and daughters of Prospero not so easy to cull.

“We are through the worst of it Lord”

His thoughts were brought back to the here and now and he turned his attention to the Human Commander of his ship when he was not around. Admiral Acheri, a man with an olive complexion and Terran born. Alim smiled at the irony, Acheri hailed from the very land that Prospero drew its inspiration from.

His bald pallet sheened a little with the sweat he had draining from his body. Alim nodded and rose from his seat. They were indeed through the worst of it but there were still dangers in the warp and it would not do to be complacent.

“The command is yours Acheri” He spoke before placing his helm upon his head “Call me when we reach the jump point”

“Yes Lord” Acheri bowed his head and took his seat. As the human gripped the rail before him he found himself breathing a heavy sigh of relief and began to co-ordinate with the Navigator. The last stage of the journey could hold as much terror as the main part. There were occasions when a vessel exited a jump gate to find them selves on a collision course with another vessel.

He really did not want that on his conscience and began barking orders to ensure that The Great Traveller would not endure such a fate, not on his watch and not in his lifetime.

Alim glanced over his shoulders and took in the men and women working on the command deck of his bridge, he knew their names and he knew their backgrounds and if they were to die against the ferocity that was the World Eaters then he would ensure they were remembered with pride. Right now he had drills to oversee. Still he was relieved that was over, and prayed to the great spirits that the remainder of their journey would be without further incident.

The Legend of D’eshara was like a shark as she cut a path through the tumultuous waters, focused not only on the prey ahead of her but getting to join the great feeding frenzy, the honour her name carried was singular to the Captain of the 36th Company they were on their way to D’eshara when they were re-routed to Prospero.

Captain Dietriech of the World Eater Strike Cruiser Legend of D’eshara narrowed his eyes as he saw the Thousand Son Vessel ahead of him. He clenched his fist and forced his breathing to slow, he could attack here but this close to her his vessel would get caught in the backwash and damn it those Word Bearer pansies had told all the World Eater Command Staff that the Warp would work for them.

He stayed just out of The Great Journeys sensor range and closed his eyes as he pictured what he would do once he was able to strike without risking his own vessel. This would not have ordinarily bothered him but he did want to make the planet fall to Prospero and inflict death and destruction.

He bashed his head with his closed fist to stop the whispering voices that had been constant in his mind since the conclave aboard the Primarchs Vessel the War Hound. They were urging him to fire, to collect skulls for the great Skull Throne and draw blood for the mighty Blood God. Dietriech was slowley slipping into the madness that had beset his brothers but he needed to remain focused.

None of the bridge crew dared utter any word to him, they had already heard what was happening to the human crew of other World Eater vessels who dared voice disquiet at their new orders the World Eaters had always been violent in the ways they carried out their battles but they had treated their Human crews with a modicum of respect, now they were liable to lash out at anyone that got on their nerves for the sake of it,

Sensor Officer Leraine Kelman nervously glanced over his shoulder and stammered “L-Lord, there is another vessel behind us”

Dietriech slowley turned his gaze onto the quivering officer and arched a red eyebrow “Is it another Thousand Son vessel or one of ours?”

“N – No Lord”

“Well speak up and tell me who it is man!” Dietriech roared, his already think patience with the Humans growing ever thinner. He gripped his axe ready to dispatch himself of the annoying fly and maybe then the voices would stop.

Before the terrified Human could tell him the D’seshara was buffeted by the shockwave of an attack. Dietriech roared his anger and took the head off the unfortunate officer for being too slow in answering him.

“You take that station” He pointed his bloody axe at another human “and tell me who it is that is attacking us!”

Quickly the officer leant over the headless body of Kelman and read the data

“Lord, it is a vessel of the Space Wolves…The Umbergora”

A feral grin spread across Dietriechs face “Now we shall see who the most savage, turn is about and let’s meet her head on, and the witches can wait.”  
The crew did as they were instructed.

 

“Lord they are turning to face us” Olga Streniof, the Helmswoman of The Umbergora scowled deeply as she read her screen and then stared at the screen ahead of her. “Are they insane?”

Captain Anlaf sniggered exposing his canines a little “They are going to see which one of us is the better of the barbaric legions’. Vox…let The Great Journey know that we have their back and we shall join them shortly. Inform them that if the winds flow smoothly then we will dispense of Angrons War Dogs before he even knows what is happening.”

“Yes my Lord” The Vox-Officer, a young man by the name of Scarek immediately carried out his lords orders.

“Sergeant Dragfinn”

“Captain?” The voice of his senior Sergeant came over the inter-ship Vox

“Prepare to board and be armed for bear”

The Sergeant chuckled at his Captains lucky saying and acknowledged his order. Anlaf turned to Admiral Dag. “Bring her to within boarding distance”

“Yes Lord”

“Lord” Scarek turned “The Great Journey are asking if you require their assistance”

Anlaf snorted, his nose flaring at the mere thought of it and his braided black hair moved vigorously “The Sons of Russ need no such assistance on this, we are allowing them the passage to get to the Jump point before Angrons puppies take them out. Tell him to carry on The Rout shall take care of this impudent puppy and his litter”

He stopped by the doors that led off his bridge and saluted his bridge crew

“May Russ guide your aim gentlemen and ladies and should we not all meet again I will see you in the great wolf halls where we will break bread, eat meat and drink mead until we are called to battle once more”

“For Russ” The crew roared and carried out their duties faster and with a renewed vigour that pleased the Space Wolf.

“Give them something to think about Dag, give us the cover we require to get there without too much of a problem”

“By your command Lord and Lord?”

“Yes?”

“Russ is with you” Anlaf nodded briskly and stepped off the bridge.

 

Anlaf could barely believe what was happening. He had always believed that it would be The Rout that would take down the witches of Magnus but here they were, working in harmony together. He did not like Psykers who abused their powers. Their own Stormseers were respected as they all took their power from Mother Fenris, they did not touch that which they were not meant to.

The Thousand Sons, whilst potent at what they did sometimes did not know what the word stop meant. Now the ancient enmity between his father Leman Russ and his uncle Magnus seemed to have been buried. He wondered what had happened between them for Russ to walk alongside his witch brother.

Indeed he had seen the Cyclops on a number of occasions and he was a terrifying figure when roused to war, but he had seen Magnus’s weakness, knowledge and that would be his downfall. The thing that caused a frown to crease the wolfish brow of Captain Anlaf was that if The Rout knew this then so would the Red Angel and his sons.

He kept his thoughts to himself for the moment, meeting his chosen warriors in the hanger bay. He directed them to their boarding pods and stared at the Dreadnaught that housed not only his company’s champion but his childhood friend Enoch. Battle Brother Loki Enoch had been cut down by the Eldar during the battle for Farogos Prime but, in respect of the fact that his tactical acumen and his sheer charisma made him a mourned brother the Wolf Priests placed him in a Dreadnaught so that he would continue to serve the Father and the Legion.

“Enoch, old friend are you ready for this?”

“I have my orders Anlaf” The dreadnaught boomed “I wish I could go with you and see the hounds of Angron run like whipped puppies”

Anlaf rested his hand on the sarcophagus that housed his friends’ remains “in case they have the same idea my brother I need you here to guide the new pups in the company”

There was a murmuring from the Dreadnaught which sounded like a begrudging agreement “Mother Fenris be with you brother”

“And Russ be with you brother”

Enoch turned his massive frame to watch the chosen warriors of the 16th Company head for their boarding pods and wished them luck. Anlaf stopped mid stride and turned to face Enoch.

“If we do not return brother, destroy their ship and join our kin at Prospero and avenge us”

The Dreadnaught moved a little in acknowledgement and turning went to take his own post up. Several moments later, under the barrage of fire from The Umbergora the assault pods launched and streaked towards The Legend of D’eshara


	2. Chapter 2

The D’seshara shuddered under the impact of the assault pods; suddenly the once quiet bridge was awake. Designated areas of the ship were being bombarded with the Space Wolves attacks. They had managed to shoot some down but not nearly enough and Captain Dietriech snarled his fury as it looked more and more like the incompetent fools on the bridge were not doing their jobs.

The first few salvos from the Umbergora had taken out the Gellar field which in itself was not thing as it was already leaking substance from the warp into the vessel. He stormed through the engineering level yelling at the humans to work faster but already some were screaming and seeking to tear their eyes out from what they were apparently seeing. So much so that he had to cut some of them down.

Merciful culling’s he thought that but the more blood that flowed at the end of his axe the more he enjoyed it but he wanted more, not mere humans but transhumans like him. His so called savage cousins of the Space Wolves would make for much easier prey. Joining up with his warriors he waited as madness whirled around them.

++ Remember brothers, the Gellar field is down and that means that there will be madness. Trust your instincts ++ Captain Anlaf relayed through to his pack mates in all the pods ++ this is for Russ and ….++ He paused before he spoke again ++our cousins in the Thousand Sons. ++

His brothers looked at him for a moment then placed their helms on their heads just as their pod crashed into the side of The D’seshara. Sergeant Dragfinn kicked the hatch open and with his Captain leading the charge they emerged into the lower decks.

Humans were screaming in terror, some were backing away from things only they could see waving their arms as if to ward off some great evil beast from their worst nightmares. Perhaps out of mercy, the Wolves ended their suffering and relied on their own senses ignoring the hairs on the back of their necks as an irritation to be forgotten.

They made their way through the vessel as reports came in from other Wolves that they had encountered World Eaters and battle was joined. Dragfinn pulled Anlaf to one side as a promethium burst came down the corridor and engulfed a fleeing human.

“Blood for the blood god” The World Eater roared.

Anlaf scowled deeply, wondering what madness had taken over his cousins especially as he heard the same shout coming through his inter-squad vox feed.

++ Ignore them brothers, they are to be punished ++ he snarled and with a roar to Mother Fenris and Russ he charged head on towards the World Eater.

Maybe it was the lighting, the red warning lights but Anlaf could swear his adversaries armour was the colour of fresh blood and not the blue and white it had been. His sword clashed with the World Eater who he read was called Klienstan.

He was horrified; this could not be the same Brother Klienstan that had fought alongside his men at the battle for Jerunisan Ridge. What a glorious battle that had been sung by the company skalds for many a night. He could barely believe this was the same warrior and his hearts ached to see such a barbaric change.

“Yusef” He tried reasoning with his former cousin “It is me Hadran, put down your flamer cousin we can find an end to this without blood being spilt”

Klienstan pulled his helm off and for a moment it appeared to the Space Wolf to be the same Battle cousin he had proudly fought alongside.

“You - you have no idea what has gone on Hadran” Klienstan snarled spittle and froth coming from his mouth like a rabid dog “There is only blood and it drives me on”

“Yusef this is madness you must see that. Astartes do not fight Astartes!”

Klienstan banged his head against the walls of the corridor they were in “The – The voices drive me cousin and they bay for your blood and that is what I am going to give them!”

Anlaf raised his bolter as his former cousin, his former blood oathed brother came towards him and fired straight and true. The Bolter shell splitting his head apart like a ripe melon sending brains and matter over the walls and over Anlaf who stared as the body toppled like a giant building and crashed to the deck. He watched the body for several more seconds then nodded to himself. If this is what had befallen the World Eaters here in the Warp then there was some powerful wry indeed.

++ Chosen sons of Russ, kill them, kill them all ++ He voxed and broke into a run.

 

Dietriech howled to the Blood God as he took the head of a young Space Wolf, a name he did not know nor did he care, he raised the dead Astartes head above his and let the blood flow over his face and in his hair. It empowered him and even the buffeting by the attacks from their blasted vessel could not stop him from killing their kind.

This was freedom, to no longer be held to brotherhood to those he found wanting and he found these so called savage wolves wanting. They had taken some of his brothers down of that there was no doubt but he had tested his own strength against the so called sons of Fenris. They were like a pack of wondering pups without their mighty father. The Wolves were nothing without Russ to wet-nurse them and him; he was a son of the mightiest gladiator to ever walk the universe. The sons of Angron needed no wet nursing, they were taught to stand on their own two feet and to fight to the death using whatever they could or they had to their advantage.

He felt someone shoulder barge him and stumbled forward to see Anlaf, his face covered in blood and a snarl exposing his canines behind him. At last the Pack Alpha, he was going to so enjoy this, taking this skull would see his new god appeased and the voices would stop to allow him to reach Prospero.

He glanced behind him to see the trail of bodies, human and Astartes, Space Wolf and World Eater alike leading from this room downwards. The blood was flowing like a river and already the Space Wolves Apothecaries were carrying out their gory duties.

Dietriech seemed to remember the face of the Astartes before him and stepped back ah yes that was it Captain Hadran Anlaf, the great snow wolf, so called for his prowess in the snows and frost peaks of worlds he had conquered.

“Worthy opponents indeed, come let us see if the mewling cubs of the so called Wolf King can fare against the Hounds of the Red Angel!”

Anlaf shook his head and holstered his Bolter, all around him came news of the Wolves retreating back, at first he wondered why then heard the Ship communications, The D’seshara was grievously wounded and Dragfinn had ordered the withdrawal.

“Eventually Space Wolf you will see the true way of things, you are defending the Witches, the very witches that your father loathes”

“Who gives you the right to hunt them down?” Anlaf snarled his voice taking on a throaty growl.

“The Emperor off course,” Dietriech laughed “he told us to bring them in and that is what we will do, all captured Humans will go to feed his soul and the Thousand Sons will fuel the Golden Throne. You cousin are on the wrong side”

Anlaf could not believe what he was hearing, The Rout were the chosen justice enforcers of the Emperor not the World Eaters. He scowled a little and knew that he had to stop this madman and if it meant his death then so be it.

++ Dragfinn return to the Umbergora ++

++ Captain, what about you! I will not leave you sir! ++

++ That is an order I have to stop this maniac and if I don’t then all we have lost will be for nothing should I not return to the vessel then she is yours until our father makes his decision ++

Dragfinn was silent for several moments then his voice respectful as ever replied ++ For Russ ++

Anlaf turned his attention to Dietriech and smiled threateningly “Bring it on”

 

The battle between the two Company Captains was indeed a tale worthy of the Skalds. They eschewed their weapons, each choosing to fight bare handed, the honour of their own Legions were at stake and the test to prove which one was the more ferocious.

Dietriech was covered in blood from his broken nose and rupture eye but instead of weakening him it drove him onwards, making him stronger and in one brief opening he ripped Anlafs hand from his wrist. The Snow Wolf howled his pain and as quickly as he felt it the Laramen cells began to stem the flow of blood and the pain killers went into overdrive.

He was not down and he was certainly not out, even with one hand he was still a fighter and still a son of Russ. He charged Dietriech and bashed him into the wall causing it to implode in the shape of the World Eater, with a raised knee he drove it into the World Eaters stomach and with his right hand he drove it up in an upper cut that snapped Dietrich’s jaw bone.

He held onto the stump of his other hand and with both he bashed Dietriech across the face cracking his jaw bone. Dietriech fell to the floor spitting goblets of blood but defiantly he turned to face Anlaf and smiled crookedly “Is that all you have crippled wolf?”

With a roar born from the very valley that he had begun his life Anlaf leapt into the air and landed square on the back of the World Eater cracking his armour and his spine. Anlaf grabbed the head and pounded it into the floor and locked his arm round his opponent neck.

“The Emperor would never order such a thing” He snarled into the ear of the World Eater Captain. “This is just your insane master doing his own thing”

“Believe it if you want to Wolf, but we do what the Emperor orders”

With a roar Anlaf twisted Dietriechs neck until it snapped and he dropped it to the floor. He fell back onto his haunches only to be lifted up and he turned to see Dragfinn and Apothecary Justan either side of him.

“I told you to get off the ship” He snarled.

“Sorry Captain, I had the urge to come back and see if your sorry arse needed saving”

“Which” Justan grinned “it did not, but the 16th Company need their Alpha, we are not ready for a new one yet?”

Anlaf began to feel weak from his injuries and let him self go limp so they could half carry and half walk him.

“When I get out of here, I think I am going to get laid” he muttered causing both wolves with him to snigger.

“You might want to get cleaned up first Captain…. No she-wolf would touch you” Justan chuckled.

It was an old joke from the days the three men were blood claws, not yet full Astartes and still with some Human emotion. It was one that Justan was happy to hear and play along with.

 

The D’seshara was dead in space and as the Umbergora turned to fire upon her once more she exploded of her own wounds. Dragfinn, on the bridge in place of his Captain watched in satisfaction as the World Eater vessel vanished.

Their dead had been retrieved and their Canis Helix removed as well as the Gene seed ready to be born with pride back to the Fang and a new batch of recruits ready to enter the service of the Father of Wolves.

Anlaf had told him what had been said to him and as the Umbergora emerged from the jump point he began to wonder just how mad the Imperium was going. He would soon find out.


	3. Chapter 3

Prospero, a world of Psykers and not much else, the world itself was fraught with dangers that would have made most normal men balk at the thought of living there. It’s legacy and often used nickname of the World of Witches and Warlocks actually only conveyed half the truth. For one city on the whole of the planet was the source of much of the Imperiums knowledge. Scholars from Prospero were in demand amongst the Universities of the Imperium; it was the home world of a Legion that had been blighted by tragedy since their inception, but more then that, it was the home world of a Primarch.

To young newly promoted Astartes Apheru Apries it was the most beautiful world in the Imperium. He had no Psyker powers, not all the Thousand Sons did hence why the majority of their commanders and leaders were but those who were not were the general Battle Brothers. He had been on two battlefields, the last on the world of Parvinia had seen him elevated to full Astartes and he wore the red of his Legion with pride.

He took in the view over Tizca, her white marble buildings all topped with spires that seemed to touch the skies of Prospero. Aside from the Psychenium, the only thing a native of Prospero was the loss of knowledge and as his gaze turned to the Great Pyramid he was reminded of stories that his scholars had relayed to him, about the pyramids on ancient Aegypt and he often wondered if that once mighty an ancient civilisation was anything like the people of Prospero.

He looked up into the sky and smiled to himself, soon their father would be home and soon they would be off gaining more knowledge for the benefit of mankind and the Imperium.

 

The Photep roared into real space, the sparks settling along her as she adjusted to being back in real space. The Thousand Sons aboard her prayed to the fates that they were in time to save their home world and their Brothers. Leman Russ stood beside his brother Magnus on the Stratagem, a sight that was indeed unusual, not that seeing two Primarchs together for the sons of the Emperor were known to work in tandem, but seeing these two Primarchs together, two that had such opposing views of how things were done and what was more important in the world’s schemes. The great and mighty Wolf King and son of Fenris whose savagery in battle was legendary and who had been seen by other Primarchs as the Emperors Punisher, for it was he who brought to heel those who dared to usurp the Emperor and make them pay in ways that would not be forgotten.

This powerhouse and never ending vessel of violence stood alongside the Crimson King, the only Primarch that shared his fathers’ psyker powers. All the Primarchs had psyker abilities to some degrees. Curze had his visions, Sanguineous was known to have some and Lorgar but none of them himself and, with their mutual distrust of each other, Russ, was suspicious of those who did not use their abilities like his own Stormseers and the Thousand Sons were such a group, Magnus, whilst respecting Russ as a warrior did not like his off handed attitude towards collecting ancient knowledge.

So yes, to many this would have been a bizarre and surreal partnership but, perhaps because of their apathy they were the best suited to deal with this. Already other Space Wolf vessels and Thousand Son Vessels were translating behind them and as they did so they fell into formation behind The Photep and The Hrafnkel like pups behind their parents.

Magnus glanced at his brother as real space became a settled ocean around them, Russ had said little since he transferred across prior to entering the Warp. His mind was still whirling with the idea that their father had been corrupted so completely. Magnus could understand that but he had a job to do and one of them was to save his world. There were things there that would aid the remaining sons against their father and their brothers if they needed too.

Something else played on Magnus’s mind and he moved closer to his wolfish brother. “Leman, I require an oath off you”

Russ arched an eyebrow and turned his fearsome features to his red skinned one eyed brother “Which is?”

Magnus looked away for a moment and swallowed hard then returned his gaze to his brother “If anything happens to me, if Angron…..”

“Nothing will happen to you Magnus, you are a Primarch” Russ said with finality.

“Don’t be a fool Leman; I know you are not so please credit me with some intelligence.” There was a slight snarl deep in the Wolf Kings throat but he said nothing so Magnus continued “We both know that Angron is capable of anything brother, the fates alone knew what was done to him on D’seshara to turn him into that seething mass of rage and hate.”

Russ nodded a little; he too had wondered what hardships his brother had endured at the hands of the old slave masters that had turned him into something more then what had been laid out for him. He had heard the stories of how he had killed some of his own sons when the Emperor had left him in their care and that it was Kharn that had brought him round hence why Kharn was his favoured son.

“There is a chance that he could kill me and if he does…I want you to promise me that you will find a home for my sons and my people if Prospero is rendered uninhabitable”

The Wolf Kings heavy brow furrowed deeply making him appear more like his namesake then a son of the Emperor. “And just where I take your people and your sons! They would not survive on Fenris or any of her outlying planets or moons, my people and my sons are bred for the harshness of Mother Fenris….”

“There is a world in the Yvegona Cluster, it is habitable and would suit the needs of my sons and my people.” Magnus calmly cut his brother off.

Russ turned side on to face his brother “Do you mean Kegara? Magnus that world is littered with creatures worse then those Psychenium that Prospero faces. We took that world together brother the only civilisation there was long gone and we faced superstitious nomads”

Magnus fought the urge to supress a smile, when it came to superstitious nomads then there were none more so then the people of Fenris. Instead he nodded a little “It is ideal for my people and I do not want my sons to die out because I am no longer here.”

Russ rubbed his jaw with his massive paw and then scratched his chin “IF it happens then I will see to the re-settlement but it won’t happen”

“Oh and how can you be so sure Wolf King!” Magnus, who’s patience was normally never ending was now begging to fray making him sound irritable at what he saw as his brothers refusal to accept a possibility,

“Because if you die Crimson King and we have to fight the Emperor, no one else has the abilities that you do to defeat him” Russ calmly spoke, seemingly ignoring his brothers tone “and I will not let that happen, for if you do pass into that great ethereal library assuming it exists, then we will all be doomed if father hits us with the full might of his power”

Magnus was shocked at Russ’s words. The great Leman Russ, the scourge of all psykers and their ilk had actually left him speechless. He turned his head to look down at the command pulpit.

“How long until we reach Prospero Admiral?”

“Seventeen and a half hours Lords” Admiral Artames replied bowing his head.

“Have the Astropathic choir warn Prospero and pray that we are not too late.”

Magnus clenched his fists and closed his eye, it would be a while before he was ready to send warning to his sons himself but with any luck they might just reach the system before Angron and his devil dogs. Russ saw the intent on his brothers’ face and read it perfectly but said nothing. After all he doubted they would get to Prospero before Angron, all he could hope for was that the Red Angel would not have done too much damage before they arrived.

The world was there for him and his sons to take. He watched as Prospero began to appear closer on his screen, just a few more hours then they would be within reach of this place of witches. He had no patience for Witches they should all be exterminated as blight upon a true warrior but, his father had plans for his wayward brother and who was he to disrupt his fathers’ plans.

Angron had never been close to his father, just like Curze he had been seen as the one that barked at the enemies of the Emperor and bring their infamous wrath down on their sorry heads and now, now they had a chance to prove themselves as more then just fearsome beings to humans, they could prove themselves against fellow Astartes and he would be able to prove to Magnus that it is not Russ he should fear but him, The Red Angel, the War Dog himself.

Angron calmed his churning mind as all he could picture was streets that flowed with rivers of blood and bodies. Their heads removed and sitting at the feet of a great brass throne atop of which sat a mighty warrior encased in bronze armour. Angron had been drawn to him for his honour, there was no other god that would accept the loyalty of one such as Angron who held honour in such wide regard and who despised cowardice to the extent that within the his great fortress burned a great pit where the souls of the  
cowards and those who had fled in the face of battle burned for eternity in torment.

Argon had ingenious ways of dealing with cowards and he tended to respect those that fought against them even though the outcome was hopeless. He forced his ever clouding mind to focus on the job at hand. He would not only destroy this world, he would scour it then leave it a barren rock, a mighty testament to his sons and his own victory to Astartes who dared to think of themselves scholars when they were made for war and conquest, not knowledge gatherers, that was the realm of humans not warriors’.

He would enjoy proving to all his brothers that he was more then capable of doing as his father wanted with no qualms that it was a brother. He would love to take apart his brother Fulgrims sissy boys and rebuild them, teach them the meaning of cutting the braid, of true honour and martial prowess. The thoughts churning in his head made a rare smile crease his war like visage and he even uttered a chuckle which got some nervous glances from the humans on his bridge.

“Forgive me Lord, is something amusing?” Master Ferran asked causing his second-in-command to shake his head vigorously as if to say shut up you fool.

Kharn, who was never far from his father cocked his head to one side, the Master had some stones that was for certain. Angron turned his fearsome visage to the Master of his vessel and got up.

“You would ask your betters what he finds amusing.” Angron asked.

“It is good to see you laugh My Lord” Ferran continued suddenly wishing he had not said anything. “I was just curious my apologies”

Angron rested a giant hand on his shoulder and looked around him “No doubt you were all thinking the same and yet only the Master has the stones to ask me. I was laughing my friend at how this will change things not just for my War Hounds but you all. We will become the Legion that brings the Emperors justice to those who would not heed his words.”

Ferran heaved a palatable sigh of relief “We are coming to the dark side of Prospero Lord, what are your orders?”

“Are all my sons in the system?”

“We lost contact with the Legend of D’seshara Lord but that could be the Warp interference.” Ferran explained.

“Retake your seat Master, worry not for I am in a good mood,” He leant forward and moved his gigantic head to the Masters ear “The fact you have stood up to me before has kept you alive, I like you Master Urgara Ferran, when we are on Prospero’s soil ensure that my vessel leads on the destruction of those witches and I shall not forget the service, fail me and my likening of you shall vanish”

Ferran nodded slightly totally understanding what his Lord was saying. Angron stood straighter “Soon my mortal sons and daughters, brothers and sisters we shall write a new legacy this is the dawn of the World Eaters. Its time those witches of Magnus learnt that”


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Magnus’s message reached the spires of the Great Pyramid the Leigons Commanders began organising not just a battle front but the evacuation into the Pyramid and the safe transport of all acquired knowledge, this would take hours but, hopefully it could be done in time for their father and his allies to get here before the World Eaters.

As Twilight faded to night it became apparent that they was not going to be enough time, the skies filled with drop pods that came to Prospero’s ground like torpedoes, from the skies shoots of missiles and blasts were firing at strategic watch posts around the cities outer limits. Brother Apries followed his Sergeant as he and the rest of the squad went to aid the Spireguard in their job of evacuating the schools.

Surely there had been some mistake, that the sons of Angron had been told to test the sons of Magnus, Apries had hoped that when the order came down from the mouth of the Primarch himself that it had been an organised test of the Thousand Sons battle worthiness but, as he looked up and saw the trails in the skies he knew that this was no battle ready test, the explosions of the watch towers told him that when he saw Spireguard falling to their deaths.

“Squad Anubis forms up!” Sergeant Ra-Baka bellowed, “Captain, my men will cover you until you get those children and their tutors to the safety of the Pyramid, make it quick, Angron and his puppies are not know for their patience or their discretion”

The Captain bowed quickly and began barking orders to his men to do as the Sergeant ordered. Apries noted how efficiently the Spireguard worked and were just as loyal to their father as they were to the Astartes that made up the Thousand Sons. He also believed that they would not need babysitting and he and his Battle-Brothers could focus on other things.

“Have you ever seen a World Eater Apries?” The Brother to his left whispered as he swung his Bolter left to right and back again.

“No Senbu, I have not” Apries replied “I have seen the sons of Russ in action though, what can be different?”

“Oh trust me Brothers,” Sergeant Ra-Bakas voice cut across their conversation and they turned to see him standing behind him “There is a lot of difference between the Wolves of Fenris and the War Hounds of Angron.”

“Contact fifteen kilometres….by the Great Ocean” Brother Uahbras voice exclaimed in shock.

Squad Anubis saw them and knew this was real. A squad of World Eaters, their distinctive blue and white armour standing out in the light made their way across the ground towards the Thousand Sons. Ra-Baker took a moment to assess the situation and knew that unless there was a miracle then they may not walk out of this alive, shame that three of his squad were new flesh and blood Astartes, still they would fight, and they would show these traitors that the sons of Magnus were not to be misunderstood.

He bellowed to the Spireguard to leave now, he knew they were not afraid of the World Eaters, they were Spireguard but the civilians were and had every right to be, to get them to safety was their priority and holding off the World Eaters was his and if his squad were to be the first of many battles across this mighty city then so be it, like all the Sergeants and Captains news of the Emperors change of heart had filtered through the Thousand Sons, the First Captain himself had sent word that they now fought for Horus. Ra-Baka had found this hard to believe at first but, he would not dispute the words of the First Captain, after-all he spoke for Magnus him self and if this was the way it was then so be it.

“For Magnus and sacred Prospero!” He bellowed

“For Magnus and sacred Prospero!” His squad returned the shout and readied themselves.

Sergeant Deziel Afonsei could see the Thousand Sons up ahead defending what appeared to be a building, he doubted it was of any strategic importance but never the less he had his orders. He stopped for a moment and his squad stopped around him. Their cortical implants were already beginning to tap into their brains and he could feel the violence surge around him in his squad as well as his own emotions. If he had not had one of these implants he might have seen that there was some sort of wrong in what he and his brothers were about to do, however as it was they had their orders given to them from the Primarch himself and also from the Emperor and that was good enough for him.

He had heard others say that the Thousand Sons were not true warriors, that they were witches and knowledge seekers, not the true warriors needed to be an Astartes but, unlike some of his brethren he was not about to discount the fact that they could fight. Not all the Thousand Sons were Psykers and those that were fought just as hard and as ferociously as those that weren’t. He sniffed the air and pulled a disgusted face, the stench of Psyker was in the air, despite the Nikea Edict they still reeked of it, and their Primarch would be taken in chains to the Emperor and those of the inner circle, although he had been told to keep some Thousand Sons alive he wanted first blood.

“Squad Tungus…lets show these witches how we make war” He roared to his squad mates and pulled his chain axe, up close and personal that was the way a World Eater fought and these Witches would learn that.

 

Ra-Bakas roared at his men to fire their Bolters and make every shot count, he did not want the World Eaters coming too close, he had studied their tactics and knew all too well that they preffered close quarter combat, once they got into that range then it would become bloody and messy and this was what they wanted.

He raised his Bolter and hesitated as he saw the World Eater Sergeant remove his helm to reveal a face so disfigured by the thrill of the hunt that Ra-Bakas thought for one awful moment he was looking at a demon. He may not be of the ways of the upper echelons of his Legion but he recognised berserker when he saw it. He sighted his target and fired; the Bolter seemed to show the trail it would take but at the last moment Afonsei moved to one side and it took down a World Eater behind him. It was as if the traitor had seen it coming, which was impossible, he had no more time to contemplate this as with a howl that sounded like the Great Ocean itself the World Eaters were among Squad Anubis and all thoughts of co-ordinated supressed fire went out the window.

 

Senbu drew his Gladius and ducked under the whirring chain blade of a World Eater who, according to his visors scanners identified him as Czernobog. He could smell the heat of the World Eaters breath as he bore down on the Thousand Son and it smelt like the dead. He raised his left foot, and threw the World Eater over his head but the son of Angron was faster and landed like a cat, on his feet and before Senbu could get to his feet his head was grabbed.

The pain was excruciating as giant hands grabbed his visor and tore it off taking some of his skin with it. already his Laramen cells were starting to work on healing the wounds but Czernobog was not done yet, as Senbu attempted to get his bearing he was punched at least he thought he was punched but as he looked down the World Eater had punched him alright, clear through his armour deep into his chest. What did Angron feed his warriors that they would be able to do this? Senbu raised his head to meet the insane glare of the World Eater and knew he was dead, the Astartes eyes told him that much.

He began to laugh “This is not going to stop us World Eater, we are Thousand Sons and we will endure” Czernobog correctly assumed he was being made a mockery off and with a roar he pulled the still beating heart from the Thousand Son and watched as he fell to his knees, the shock and trauma sending his body into spasmic overload, drawing his chainsword back he cut the head from the body. He picked the head up by the topknot and held it aloft.

“Blood for the blood god, skulls for the skull throne, victory for Angron” He roared.

“Think again!” another voice growled and as Czernobog turned Apries fired his Bolter full into the World Eaters face destroying it completely and covering his own armour in the blood of the deranged traitor.

He glanced down at his dead Brother and stood over the body, less anymore of those maniacs decided to try and defile it, but what bothered him the most, aside from the brutality of these so called Astartes, was who was he chanting too and why?

With the ferocity of the attack and despite killing on both sides neither the remaining Thousand Sons or World Eaters were going to give up their perceived victories, one group fought for the Imperial Truth and the others fought for a new insane order, one group fought to conquer a world and bring it to heel, if that meant destroying it then so be it the other fought to save their world and stop the hordes from taking the one world that had been a safe haven for them when all around them mistrusted them and sought to bring them under the heel of others superstitions regarding the majority of the populace and the Astartes of this world.

Brother Sam-Ta and Brother Salatis stood back to back against their attackers, Salatis’s flamer was already spent and seemingly cooking the World Eaters did not work straight away, he held his Bolter and having heard Senbus’ dying words over the vox he took it to heart, there would be other battles for their Brothers to fight but if they could just hold out against the Berserkers of Angron then it would be a tale to tell to the Leigons scribes.

Sam-Ta threw his Bolter down as the last bolt flew from it and impacted against a World Eaters chest sending him falling to the ground and laying still. He drew his sword and readied himself, activating the power field around it. Like Sam-Ta his helm had been damaged earlier on in the fight and they were both fighting bareheaded. He felt something splash the back of his neck and turned to see the headless corpse of Sam-Ta waver like a chicken who did not realise its head was cut off then, it fell to the ground. With a roar he lunged at the World Eater, an Astartes that was identified as Brother Rolan.

Rolan dodged the attack and brought the hilt of his axe straight onto the sword arm of Salatis who roared as the pain registered and already his physiology was rushing pain suppressants to the broken bone. He swayed out of the way in time to dodge an attack that would have cleaved him in two, these World Eaters were stronger then he remembered them being, then seeing the implants in Rolans’ head he realised that the World Eaters cortical implants were making him senseless to pain. He had been under the impression that they were told to stop this, but then again with what he had heard he could suppose that Angron never listened anyway. He had to find a way to stay alive long enough to give him room to strike.

Rolan however was not going to give him that chance and just kept coming at him taking swipes at his armour, some connected some did not and as Salatis took a sparing glance around him he could see that there were not many more of Squad Anubis left and he had a sinking feeling that this would be his worlds fate. He was knocked onto his back and tried to move his good arm up to block the blow that was coming from the frenzied World Eater, instead the body was cleaved in two and fell in bloody halves either side of the Thousand Son, a grey gauntlet was shoved him his face and a wolfish face appeared before him.

“Do you require aid – Cousin?” The Astartes asked.

Salatis laughed, with relief more then anything else, he had never thought he would be so happy to see a son of Russ. He took the offered hand and was pulled to his feet.

“Your arm…” The Space Wolf motioned to the broken arm.

“I have another” Salatis picked his sword up “Who do I have to thank for this?”

“I am Brother Galthar Halfdnar” The Space Wolf nodded at him “We can do the rest later, time to show these traitors how not to treat another’s home world”

Salatis did not argue and it was only then that he saw other Space Wolves enter the battle and for the first time he praised the sons of Russ for their timely arrival.

 

Sergeant Ra-Bakas had already lost his hand to Afonseis’ chain axe and he was on the verge of loosing another had it not been for the Poleaxe that erupted from the chest of the World Eater Sergeant. In shock he looked up to see another face, in the livery of a Space Wolf Sergeant. He was helped up and looked around as the Space Wolves and the remaining five Thousand Sons finished off the remaining World Eaters.

“I am Sergeant Njal, we have come to aid you Cousin” Njal was as any Space Wolf, his mouth parted to show the fangs that all wolves had but for once it did not send a shiver of anticipation through Ra-Bakas, more relief.

“Never thought I would be so glad to see you Cousin” Ra-Bakas sat himself down as the Space Wolves Apothecary saw to his hand. “I was not under the impression that there were any of….the Rout here?”

He used the real name for the Sons of Fenris and it seemed to be accepted as it was meant, honour to the saviours. Njal sat down beside Ra-Bakas as his Apothecary took the Gene-Seed of the dead Thousand Sons so they could be returned to their Legion. Squad Anubis’s own Apothecary was dead, having been cut to pieces by a World Eater, Njal had ordered his Apothecary Brother Njord to collect the precious Gene-Seed from the dead Apothecaries units too.

“We were first to reach Prospero, we were ordered to make planet fall and do what we could until your father and my father get here”

“Russ and Magnus together?” Ra-Bakas was genuinely surprised. Njal chuckled a little

“Aye Cousin, we fight as one. You however need medical attention and I doubt you would be able to return to the Great Pyramid without encountering more of these bastards so we will come with you”

“Thank you Cousin, I owe you mine and my squads’ lives, I will find a way to repay it, I do not forget such a thing”

“I am sure that in the coming days Cousin there will be ample time to honour that”

Ra-Bakas did not doubt it especially with the new strength the World Eaters had it was going to be a blood war that was certain. 

 

By the time Squad Anubis and Squad Valhalla had reached the Great Pyramid they had joined up with other Thousand Son units who had also been aided by the Space Wolves. Njal remained with Ra-Bakas, having encountered smaller skirmishes along the way a strange sense of trust had built up between both Sergeants and their respective squads’.

Captain Atlem of the 33rd Fellowship met with Captain Djarl of the 19th Grand Company, they nodded respectfully to each other and withdrew from earshot of the Spireguard who were defending the roadway leading to the home of the Thousand Sons.

“Perhaps Captain you would be so good as to tell me what in the name of the Crimson King is going on here?” Atlem asked when both men were alone. Although Djarl noticed that Atlems’ gaze was forever on the horizon.

He was not snubbing him he was watching for the approaching enemy, they had already heard that the World Eaters had taken some of the outer lying districts and the causality list had been horrendous. Even one as violent as Djarl had been shocked when one of his Blood Claws had reported what had happened not only to the Astartes that were there but the civilians too.

The Astartes both Thousand Sons from the 25th Fellowship squads Osiris and Isis and the Rout of Squad Freygor, one of his own best Sergeants had been killed and their heads taken, to be placed in the centre of that small town piled high, their bodies had been ripped asunder as if mad animals had been let loose on them and the humans they had been defending.

“I can tell you what I know” Djarl joined Atlem and watched the horizon himself “it seems that the Emperor has forsaken his old plans and decreed that the Imperial truth is a lie and that there are gods”

Atlem arched a dark eyebrow “But – he has always despised ideology of any kind, look what he did to Lorgars sons when they refused to give up the idea he was a god….now you are telling me that he has just suddenly decided that there are?” his voice was incredulous and Djarl did not blame him for being so shocked.

When news had filtered through The Rout of the truth of the matter the Wolves had too been in a state of disbelief. He waited for the news to sink in then, as much as he disliked the notion continued with what he knew.

“It seems from what my father has said to us, that Lorgar, Curze, Angron, Fulgrim, Mannus, Vulkan and Dorn have joined the new Imperial Creed. Mars was overrun by the Iron Hands and Ferrus Mannus now sits in judgement on it. Curze killed an entire government and planet in the name of the Emperor, Angron and Vulkan gunned down their own sons who would not follow the new order and …. And Rogal Dorn destroyed an entire world”

Djarl watched the graduating shock on the Thousand Sons Captains face and when he told him of The Great Salamander and The Praetorians actions he had to steady his fellow Astartes who looked like he might faint from the shock.

“And we have angered the Emperor, is that why he has sent Angrons blood mad sons to our world” Atlem whispered realisation slowley dawning on him.

“It is, it would seem that The Cycl -Crimson King refused to heed an order from the Emperor to return to Terra, and this is his punishment” Djarl corrected himself, it did not seem appropriate to call the Lord of Prospero by his less savoury nickname.

“Then we will defend this world until my father returns. He is a not far now and all we can do is holding the murdering bastards at bay until he arrives.” Atlem rubbed his brow.

“My father is by his side”

“This I know Cousin.” Atlem uttered something that sounded like a cynical chuckle.

“Something I said amusing you cousin?” Djarl asked

“Cousin does this not seem a little ironic to you?” Atlem saw the blank expression on the Space Wolfs face and continued “Well considering that our two Legions have never seen eye to eye it had always been assumed that our destruction would come at your hands”

Djarl nodded conceding the Thousand Sons point, everyone in all the Leigons had predicted that the Emperor would unleash the sons of Fenris on the sons of Prospero if they continued the path that they had forsaken and none in his company were more surprised then he was when the news had come that Russ and Magnus stood side by side.

“They will be here shortly, all we can do Cousin is hold and you have us to aid you” Djarl clasped his giant hands behind his back “We will hold them off for as long as we can and with the fates willing that would be enough until Russ and Magnus arrive”

“There is one slight flaw there Cousin” Atlem dryly spoke and met Djarls enquiring gaze “We need to hope that Angron has not made planet fall yet”

Djarls jaw set tight and his ice blue eyes hardened “Even if he has Cousin then we will die fighting him but know that we will defend this city of yours no matter who they send against us.”

Atlem held his hand out “I am Osirian Atlem, my friends call me Rian in informal times”

Djarl looked for a moment then took the hand in the warriors grip “I am Siegfried Djarl, and when this is over we shall drink and feast to the victory of our fathers…Rian”

“I will hold you to that Siegfried”

“Good, now let’s see what else we need to do here to fortify this roadway”  
The two Captains began to walk the lines of defence speaking words of encouragement to the human defenders and Atlem was proud to be beside the Space Wolf who added words of encouragement to the Spireguard warriors, even if they were blunt and to the point.

 

Sergeant Hofkyier and Sergeant Aken had met up in the district of Jeriz, a small township that housed many of the cities blue collar workers. The Space Wolves of Squad Ulas had been battling the World Eaters of the 23rd Company and it had not been pretty. Everyone knew how savage The Rout was but when they met the equally violent World Eaters it was like the beginnings of Ragnorak all over again.

By the time the Thousand Sons of Squad Basther had got to the district the blood flowed like a river, it was not just the ferocity of the battle but this was cousin against cousin, Astartes against Astartes, something that had been thought impossible. Aken immediately ordered his men to cover the Space Wolves and almost instantly were launched into the battle.

Hofkyier nodded his thanks to the Thousand Sons Sergeant as he was hauled to his feet.

“My thanks Cousin”

“You have took a few of the bastards down then” Aken laughed.

“We will take more, that I promise you Cousin”

The two Sergeants chuckled a little and then a sound that chilled even the mighty Space Wolves to the bone erupted from the horizon.

It was like a caged animal maddened by its captivity but thousands of times more feral then even that. Both Sergeants heard and felt the change in the air. It was the overwhelming feeling that only an Astartes got when near a demi-god. Some of the Spireguard that were fighting alongside the Space Wolves suddenly and quite violently threw up.

The other Astartes began to move back into defensive postures and it was then they saw him. Rising tall on the battlefield like some mighty demon of ancient Terran mythology, his golden armour shone as if he had been polishing it himself to its highest sheen and the red looked like blood, his war cry loosened bowels human and bladders. The two Sergeants shared a glance with each other and both knew this was one fight they would not win, none of them would, it was one thing fighting against Cousin Astartes but this….Aken called his youngest squad member over.

“Sergeant” The young Thousand Son stood ramrod straight.

“Tuthos, I want you to go back to the Great Pyramid, stop for nothing, we have no vox contact with the Pyramid and I need them to know what we have seen.” Aken ordered as calmly as he could.

“Yvor” Hofkyier called “Go with him, in case anything happens to one of you the other should continue on.”

“Yes Sergeant.”

“Be sure that you tell them we fell defending this part of Prospero” the grizzled Space Wolf told them both “That on this day Space Wolf and Thousand Son took on the World Eaters”

The Roar erupted again closer this time and they thought they could see the twin axes the giant was infamous for.

“Tell them we fought the Red Angel himself, tell them that Angron is here” Aken quietly spoke and said no more. He re-joined his men as the two Astartes made their way back towards the main city and behind them they heard Angrons shout.

“For the Emperor, blood for the blood god!”

 

How many times had it been said that this was impossibility, how many times had the legions hierarchy and indeed the Primarchs themselves had said this could never happen, such was the discipline and the ties of brotherhood within the Astartes and their fathers? Well to both Aken and Hofkyier unless this was a very bad dream or hypno test, this was happening. The twin axes of the Primarch of the World Eaters sung in bloody battle, cutting bodies of Thousand Sons and Space Wolves in equal measure, he did not care that they were his brothers sons, he did not care that they were his nephews, all he cared about was proving his father had finally seen sense. At last he had a challenge, a real challenge that he could get his teeth into and his blood flowing.

The Astartes that fell before him were admirable warriors and as a warrior he acknowledged that they would fight for what they saw as the correct way of things, when warriors fought as hard as they did then one did not take that away from them, they deserved the noble deaths they were facing and he saluted that as only a true warrior would. However, his nephews however misguided needed to learn that the Emperors word was law and he was the one to enact the Emperors justice. Him, the great Red Angel, the Mighty War Hound, The Son of D’seshara these and other names that he had been called were forged in the crucible of battle and it irked him that his brothers were not here, that their sons were dying in their place. It enforced his opinion that Russ and Magnus were nothing more then has been. The order had been set and he was not the foremost god of violence.

Aken and Hofkyier moved back as the baying of the World Eaters grew closer, their men were nothing more then bloodied shells where the World Eaters and their father had lain them to waste, it mattered not that they had taken a toll of traitors with them just that there were not enough of them to continue the battle and Angron would eventually carve a bloody path to the centre of Prospero itself. They themselves as had their brothers fought to near point of exhaustion even for an Astartes who’s energy seemed to be boundless this was more then just a fight to dissuade intruders, this was survival at its bloodiest. In days to come it would be remembered as the last stand of Jeriz and it would be noted as one of the greatest shows of defiance to the World Eaters and their deranged father.  
They did a weapons check , their Bolters had run dry hours ago and all they had were swords, chainswords and other hand held weapons.

“Well,” Hofkyier threw his helm to the ground “We could always use foul language”

Aken chuckled “Whatever works cousin” He too had no helm it had been damaged in an earlier battle with a World Eater who now lay dead on the battlefield.

“It is time then” Brother Arten whispered.

“Yes Musana” Aken sighed “It is time, so remove your helms brothers, lets face our last hours looking upon our home worlds skies”

The remaining Thousand Sons did as they were ordered as did the Space Wolves. Hofkyier grasped Akens arm in a show of brotherhood and behind them their brothers did the same, the enmity between the two legions on this day and in this theatre of war were forgotten, they had fought together, bled together and now it was time to meet the fates.

“Bad language huh,” Aken smirked “If only it would work”

Hofkyier smirked dryly then smiled showing his canines, he said nothing but the implication was there…time to pay the reaper. They did not charge towards the World Eaters who were massing around them, they headed straight for the head and although they would not see the sunset once more. They made sure that Angron remembered that this was not such an easy battle and, as they were cut down by his axes they sang songs of their childhoods, songs of Prospero merged with songs of Fenris it did not matter that they died only that they died well.


	5. Chapter 5

They stood looking at the dead marines, they felt nothing for the dead World Eaters that lay at the bodies of the dead Space Wolves and Thousand Sons, but both felt a sense of pride and loss, pride that their sons had fought to the bitter end and loss that they would never see the like again. These were brave battle brothers and cousins in arms, their names would forever ring in the halls of Fenris. It didn’t take long to work out what had happened to them, they had been cut down by the mighty sweeps of twin axes, axes that could only belong to one who was used to such artistry in carnage.

As the Apothecaries carried out their grisly tasks of collecting the gene-seed from the fallen and intoning rites over the bodies of those they worked on, the two glared at the trail of carnage the traitors had left in their wake. Spireguard who had also fought against the insane sons of the War Hound lay at awkward angles, some of them had bodies that were barely recognisable, dismembered and scattered into bloody chunks of meat by Bolter fire. The first of the two, a red skinned giant with only one eye clenched his fists and could barely stop him self from shaking. He mourned not just the loss of his sons but the loss of the equally loyal and adoring Spireguard. The second, a red haired giant with all the strength and violence of a planet that he had called home wrapped into one powerful violent spirit, rested a giant hand on the shoulder of up until recently, would barely acknowledge the crimson giant as a brother.

“Time to go brother, time to find Angron” Leman Russ quietly spoke.

They had to run the gauntlet of fire as they had come here, as soon as their vessels had appeared in Prospero space, they had been fired on, and as the battle in the stars commenced, the battle for Prospero was underway.

Ahriman stood beside his father, shaking with barely suppressed rage at the deaths of so many of his brothers, cousins and humans who had served loyally. The expression on his fathers face was enough to tell him that, had this been Russ delivering the Emperors judgement then maybe he would have accepted it. Despite the years of suspicion between the two Legions there had been an understanding. Now however, now there would be no holding back. Ahriman met his fathers’ baleful gaze and knew that look.

The look was simple, there would be no quarter given, Angron or Magnus would die here, and if Magnus could help it, it would be at his hands. He helped his father stand and without a word Russ fell into step with his brother, the other companies fell in behind the two Primarchs. There was no animosity, there were no jeering or snide remarks, there was a comradeship that was rarely seen, except between the Lunar Wolves and the Blood Angels, they would fight for a world that was being torn to pieces and they would kill a brother Legion to do it.

The galaxy would burn in revenge.

 

Angron roared his frenzy as more Space Wolves and Thousand Sons fell to the might of his axes, however one was different. Kharn, ever faithful and ever beside his father wielded Gorechild, a gift given to him before they entered Prospero and, given to him as his fathers favoured son. The other Gorefather sat in his left hand with the blood of Astartes running from it like never ending pools but, in his right hand sat Black Blade. A gift from his father to ensure victory in all that he did. A demonic blade of such thirst that it seemed to know what its new master craved more then anything in the universe, and right now he was getting it.

He stood back and let Kharn and Eighth Company move around to the right flank, First Company moved to the left and, at a silent command from the Equerry, who seemed to have more power then even the First Captain himself in the eyes of the Primarch. Ahead were a company of Space Wolves, their banner denoted them as the 24th Great Company and beside them was a company from the 113th Fellowship of the Thousand Sons. Kharns nose twitched as he could smell the arcana in the air. He set his teeth in an approximation of a dogs snarl, the Primarch said that all Librarians were to be taken, Emperors orders were quite specific in that department. Kharn glanced over his shoulder to see his father stand stock still and smiled to him self, he was letting them see him but he would let his hounds have the honour of this kill. There would be much making the rope when this battle was over.

Captain Stormblood and Captain Abrim stopped what they were talking about as they felt the presence of something equally monstrous and beguiling nearby. They turned slowley and stared at the towering figure that was Angron standing there with his mighty arms folded across his chest, his face caked in the blood of the fallen and his armour, once gold and red was now redder with the blood he had spilt. Stormblood made the sign of Fenris as the towering Primarch of the World Eaters just stood watching them as an Alpha would intimidate his enemies.

The two captains were also aware that this was not what it seemed. They had heard the sacrifice of the two sergeants, their death cries had been heard and felt by every warrior in the Astartes, psyker or normal. Angrons warriors were known for their love of close combat.

Stormblood cocked his head a little; he did not need to be a psyker or a seer to hear the other breathing. He filtered out those around him and searched with his wolf senses. In a closed vox he informed Abrim what he had heard.

++ It would appear cousin that we are being corralled ++

++ How many Njral? ++

++ Two Companies, this is going to be a skirmish and a bloody one at that  
are you ready to die for your world? ++

++ Wouldn’t you be? ++

++ Then for Russ and the Wolftime ++

++ For the Crimson King and Prospero ++

The respective Captains told their men to be ready for anything and just as the Thousand Son psyker Jamal and Space Wolf Seer Ugas warned of the attacks on the flank another voice, a powerful voice caused them to all stop.

Battle well sons of Russ, sons of Prospero for we have come to join the battle

Angron turned sensing the change in the air and drew his weapons as the red giant that was Magnus loomed out of the battlefield smog and beside him strode Russ and his two giant Fenrisian Wolves straining at their leashes, behind them both First Company Space Wolves and First Fellowship Thousand Sons. Angron let a bloody smile curve his face, now this was going to be a battle.

The atmosphere was charged and barely any Astartes or human soldier moved as the Three Primarchs faced each other. Angron could barely believe his luck, not only a chance to put down the Cyclops and take him in chains back to their father, but a chance to finally show the Wolf King who was the top dog in the dog house, to break him and send him back to Fenris in a wooden box.

Angron, the War Hound, The Red Angel, who had had his rage enhanced to murderous levels by his unknown masters, Angron who was rage incarnate, who held a martial pride and honour that none could dispute. Angron who years ago had never forgiven his father for the dishonour of being unable to honour his long dead brothers and sisters now began to feel a sense of vindication, he was the true vindication of the Emperors war and the Emperors way.

Magnus The Red, The Crimson King, The Cyclops, who was second only to the Emperor in terms of psychic might, the one who would sit on the Golden Throne and channel the power of the webway, keeping it open so that the Emperor and his loyal sons would continue the extermination of the Xenos across the galaxy in ways that were quicker then even through the Warp. He now faced the monster that had been his brother and his rage was incandescent. His beloved sons dead at the hands of Angron and his deranged sons, his people scared and running for their lives from the unclean rituals of the World Eater Astartes and, as he met Angrons steady gaze with his own, all he could see in Angrons future were blood and skulls.

Leman Russ, The Great Wolf, The Son of mother Fenris, The Wolf King who had for so long enacted the will of the Emperor, including fratricide, he who had taken two of his brothers long ago for reasons that he and his brothers were forbidden to speak off. Russ, who unlike Angron, was as sound a tactical mind as any of his brothers but, whose violence when unleashed was like a mighty Fenrisian earthquake, or the shifting of the mighty continental plates. A giant kept in check by his honour and his love for mankind. Russ was a force of nature who could not be contained but he could keep his rages in check and use them where was needed, and right now it would be here.

Russ glanced at Bjorn and the others of First Company, all through his vox reports came in of Thousand Sons and The Rout dropping over Prospero, making their way towards the city to try and stop the insane World Eaters.

“Bjorn”

“Lord?” Bjorn replied not taking his eyes off the World Eaters

“Take First Company and teach these dogs how we Fenrisians bring our runts to heal!”

“With pleasure Lord”

He returned his gaze to Angron, almost daring him to make the first move but Angrons mind was already made and with a roar that could shake mountains he launched himself at Magnus. Russ went to move when Magnus’s voice entered into his mind unbidden.

Save my city Russ, I will deal with this

Bound by his oath to his brother Russ roared his anger and with both First Companies aided the 24th and the 113th against the 1st and 8th companies World Eaters.

It was a whole different circumstance, when fighting alongside your own Primarch and against your own cousins the exhilaration was like a narcotic that never ended, but even the mighty Kharn could not doubt the power of the Wolf King as he and his sons, together with the Thousand Sons tore into the World Eaters like a massed battle of olden Terra. There were roars from the Wolves and battle cants from the psyker Astartes not to mention the cries of the humans that fought with the World Eaters and the other two Leigons.

Titans blared out their battle horns in challenge as they strode the battlefield like ancient gods, their very foot falls causing the ground to shake and mountains to tumble. As the Leigio that had sided with Angron turned against their own brothers the air was charged with the sound of the mighty behemoths letting their war horns sound and their plasma cannons rip through each other, ignoring the ants below them and seeking only to kill their own for battle honour.

Dreadnaughts clashed seeking to be the first to gain the upper hand, their claws and their cannons firing salvos that had human ears bleeding and even Kharn felt a ringing in his ears as the sounds were barely dulled by his helms suppressors. He roared at his men to keep fighting as they fell back against the fury of the Wolf King and sought to re-group, already in with the Blood God Kharn was not having anyone retreat, it would be an honourable death if one was to fall to the might of the Primarch. He was no full, no Astartes could kill a Primarch but, he could take some of the bastard wolves and psykers with him. He let Gorechild flow and it tore into Astartes armour and limbs alike, he was the favoured of Angron and he would show them all why it was he was the Red Angels Equerry and most trusted Lieutenant.

Russ was not only a sight to be feared but a source of inspiration, not only for the Rout who adored him but the Thousand Sons who had once been so terrified of him. Ahriman found himself fighting alongside Russ and Bjorn, Bjorn took the head off a World Eater and glanced at the helmless Ahriman who had lost his battered helm some time earlier.

“Do what you do best Psyker” Bjorn roughly ordered “For this day and this day alone, lets send these bastard sons of whores back into the warp where they belong”

Ahriman did not need telling twice and, alongside his psyker brothers tore into the defences of the World Eaters, and for the first time Ahriman enjoyed what he was doing, but although being alongside Russ was inspirational as he grabbed a dreadnaught of the World Eaters and tore its sarcophagus from it, the real fight was just beginning.

 

Angron leapt at Magnus who caught the Red Angel by the throat and squeezed, he no longer cared about the sanctity of brother bonds, this one had come to slaughter his people, and his people who he had helped bring into the vague acceptance of the Imperium. His people whom the Emperor had called upon to serve as telepaths in his vast navies, and food for his own soul and who had gone to do what had to be done, all that wiped away in a single order. With a roar of pure rage he threw Angron aside like he was a piece of meat and turned to face the onslaught once more.

Angron shook his head and got to his feet, a smile of sorts crossed his insane visage, so, the Crimson King had some guts in him after all, he could fight like a Primarch, and this would indeed turn out to be a worthy honourable duel. He welcomed it, more then that he wanted it. With Gorefather and Black Blade swinging he tore into the Astartes that had attempted to protect their father, wetting his blades with their blood and with a well aimed throw, Gorefather struck Magnus in the arm.

Magnus roared in genuine pain and with a cry pulled the mighty axe from his arm, his enhanced physiology already stemming the blood flow but, his arm would be a weak point for Angron to corrupt at any given opportunity. He ducked as Angron came in with his other axe and Magnus knew that if that thing even scratched him he would have a world of pain.

The blade writhed with the energies of the Warp, not to mention the energies of the mad and insane Blood God, he moved backwards just out of reach of the blade and had to think quickly. Not for the first time he knew that he had been played by the gods of the warp and his father. He could only curse himself for his own arrogance in believing he could master such beings, it had cost him his eye to cure his legion of the flesh change, and now, now those same powers sought to destroy his world and him, not on his watch and not on his life.

He goaded Angron, jeered him by saying that only the true warriors of D’eshara were worth any honour, which real men fought with their bodies and not trinkets given to them by their father. It worked. Angron sheathed Black Blade and with the roar of a man still haunted by his own perceived shame he almost flew across the short expanse between him and Magnus and landed a blow which would have taken an Astartes head off its shoulders and crushed a humans head.

Magnus shook his head, his whole body juddering from the strength of the blow from his brother and as he sought to stop the ringing in his ears a second blow landed cracking his breast plate and forcing him onto his back. He cursed himself for being so stupid, in a bid to get Angron to react like an rage maddened fool he had forgotten about those damn implants, his rage did not make him weak, they strengthened him, they made him what he was and made him so unpredictable. No wonder planets that had rebelled suddenly submitted when the Red Angel came to town.

He could no longer see Russ and a quick mind seek assured him that the Wolf King was on the way to Tizca, there were no Astartes, they had all fallen back towards the city, it was just him and Angron. He knew that he could not hold out against his insane brother for long, he was no weakling but he knew that the only one that could hope to sustain even a Primarch on Primarch shit kicking with Angron would have been Russ.

He let a rush of air escape his lungs as Angron body slammed him and grabbing his head began to pound it into the ground. Magnus reached up and made a claw of his fingers then jabbed his brother in the eyes, Angron roared and released his brother long enough for Magnus to kick the mad man over his head and get to his feet.

“Blood and skulls Angron” He spoke through a bloody mouth “You serve the master of Blood and Skulls, you will again become a puppet for the one who just wants the blood, you will be a slave once more”

Angron narrowed his eyes “I am no ones slave Psyker!”

“You don’t see it do you, they corrupted father and now, now that very force that appeals to your martial pride is enslaving you and your bastard sons bit by bit, how the mighty fall Angron, a slave as a youth for the entertainment of others and a slave to a god who doesn’t exist as we know it”

Angron roared with anger and ran the short gap between him and Angron, at the last moment Magnus side stepped and unloaded a psychic attack on his brother, he sent the images his precognisence had seen into his brothers head, a broken legion, Angron as a red skinned demon and all around him blood, skulls and chained to the will of Khorne.

Angron clutched his head and let a roar go trying to bring his own shields up to send the images away but he was dealing with Magnus, second only to their father in power and the only way to deal with Magnus was to…..

The Black Blade imbedded in Magnus’s chest and the power wreathed within the demonic blade brought Magnus to his knees. He pulled the blade out and tossed it away like it was contagious; he went to get to his feet but, whatever poison was on that possessed trinket was working its way through his body. The battle between them had caused much of his lands to shake and tremble and even now, he could feel Prospero’s pain.

She called to him, pleaded with him to stop this agony, as he looked around him he saw lances of light erupt from the heavens striking at Prospero’s heart. He swayed unsteady on his feet and closed his eye; a single tear fell from it as he mourned the passing of his world. He would get rid of the interlopers but Prospero would never be the same, she would die and his people would have to find a new home, one that was far from the Imperiums tainted touch.

He saw Angron reach for him and with what strength he had left he drove his fist upwards, between the armoured legs, cracking the protected areas causing Angron to sink to his knees in genuine pain. Magnus drew his fist back and slammed it repeatedly into the Red Angels face but, as he used what physical strength he had left, his body would not stop bleeding. He fell onto his back, feeling all his strength drain.

Angron got to his feet, loosing his balance a couple of times then reached down and grabbed Magnus “I was to take you back in chains Cyclops” he growled “But I will kill you here”

Magnus realised that it was not his body that was important, the Emperor wanted his mind, and his body did not really matter. He began to laugh, as Angron lifted him high into the air roaring his victory to those who heard it.

Russ turned, his eyesight keenly picking out what others could not and with a roar began to run back, his footfalls causing the world to cry out in more pain as the navy above struck her life force. He had never run so fast, not since he was a cub on Fenris. He prayed to mother Fenris that he would get there in time, he did not want Magnus to die, funny how that sounded now, after all these years but he did not want Magnus to die.

Angron held Magnus high for a moment and looked up “Any last words Cyclops!”

Magnus turned his gaze onto the Red Angel “You will be a slave to blood and skulls Angron, I will be free you - you will not”

Angron brought Magnus crashing across his back, bending his spine and snapping it like a twig. Even Magnus’s could not stop the roar of pain that erupted from his broken body and in the psychic shockwave every Thousand Son began to weep, whether or not they had Psyker abilities, their masters fate reached into their very souls and in conjoined grief they struck back at their attackers with a renewed fury that even caused the Rout to pause.

Angron dropped his brothers’ broken body and knelt down. He took some of the dirt of Prospero and after making a cut on his body, he rubbed the dirt into it, sealing his victory. He looked at Magnus for a long time and briefly, very briefly Magnus saw what Angron might have been, might have become had he not been on D’eshara and treated like some lab rat.

“I pity you Angron” He whispered before closing his eyes.

Angron raised his fist to strike again then lowered it. To strike now would be a coward’s blow and he was not a coward. He got to his feet and looked around him.

++ My eater of worlds, return to orbit, we shall blast this rock into the heavens, bring our dead so that they may be honoured ++

He turned and heard a groaning, moving to where the sound was he found Kharn pulling himself from under a fallen Dreadnaught. Angron reached down and lifted his favoured son as if he were no more then a baby and carried him away.

Russ groaned as he saw Magnus’s broken body and crouched down. He could get no pulse, no breathing and cursed himself for even letting his oath take him from what he should have done.

“Do not concern yourself brother, my body is broken but my mind is not” Magnus slowley spoke.

“Magnus…we can find a way to heal you”

“I doubt it Leman” Magnus grinned a sickly grin “I will no longer put my trust in those creatures who led me down my path of arrogance. This world is dead”

“I have ordered the evacuation” Russ saw the lances of light from the sky.

His sons and nephews on their vessels had managed to cripple the World Eater fleet but it would not be for long, just long enough he hoped to get the people away from here, before she exploded.

He lifted Magnus into his arms and ordered his ship to beam him back. He would hunt Angron down and he would finish him off. He swore every oath he knew, every vow that was ever to be made he swore. Angron would be his. 

 

News filtered through the Thousand Sons that their father was crippled and the Space Wolves that were with them said nothing. They had no idea what to say, to loose a brother in battle was one thing but, well a Primarch had fallen and that in it self was unthinkable. As the vessels began to move away to honour Magnus’s request a bright light engulfed the heavens and as every head turned to the viewing screens across the fleets, Prospero exploded.

Ahriman clenched his fists in anger and grief. Bjorn, who had boarded with him holding a couple of children, sent them with the human medics and stood beside the First Captain and Chief Librarian of the Thousand Sons. He watched as Prospero became nothing more then a set of lights in the sky, the shockwave had knocked some of the vessels into silence but, their priests and crews would get them working again. It was the line of World Eaters that bothered Bjorn; their vessels were blocking any exit to the jump point.

“We still have to deal with them Ahzek” Bjorn used Ahrimans first name and pointed to the vessels.

“The Photep will bring fire and destruction upon them Bjorn” Ahrimans voice sounded distant, almost like he was not there completely.

Magnus was still aboard the Hrafnkel being stabilised as best they could with Russ supervising. Still that did not mean that the Wolf King would not fight.

Ahriman turned to his human commander and snarled “I have the bridge, bring all weapons to bear, shields raised, we are taking them bastard whoresons out of the fight”

Bjorn smiled a wolfish smile, now this was how he liked to see cousins fight, with fire in their bellies and heart in their weapons. The World Eaters had killed many on their world, had crippled their beloved Primarch and destroyed their home world, to the Thousand Sons there would be no going back from this, not ever.

“I offer my services First Librarian” Bjorn stood tall a warrior of Tra, the Vlka Fenryka, third Company and one of Russ’s closest sons wanted to be a part of this, he had lost some good brothers to those insane bastards.

“Offer accepted” Ahriman whispered and took to his throne, this was his fight and ordered that all able bodied ships be prepared to fight their way through, Magnus and Prospero would be avenged.

 

The Sphinx dodged away from the fire coming from the Rage of the Imperium, but a lucky strike took her broadside and down in the engine rooms, men and women flew through the air as the explosions struck. The medics were having a hard time keeping up with the casualties, no space battles were ever easy, and this one was most certainly not.

Captain Ramasus of the 45th Fellowship gripped the seat of his command throne, like Ahriman he was Terran born and, like Ahriman he had been incensed at the death and destruction rained on his adoptive world. He had taken out a couple of battle barges, the lances from his guns blowing them into the great ocean but he was up against a Strike Cruiser, and he knew the history of the Rage of the Imperium, when it came to space battles, she knew exactly what she was doing. No wonder she was held in high regard by Angron himself.

“My lord, we have an incoming Vox message” The master of Vox, a woman by the name of Nephari turned.

“Put it through” He ordered “and get me some weapons I need to keep that monster at bay!”

“Perhaps cousin we can help” A gruff voice came over the vox; it was not the harsh tones of a space wolf, more like ….

His eyes widened a little, “Who are you?”

“This is Captain Jhal and Captain K’lun of the World Eaters and Salamanders respectfully, I know you have no reason to trust us cousin but I assure you, we are not the same as our fallen brethren allow me to have the Heart of Truth and the Fires of Nocturne get you out of this mess”

Ramasus closed his eyes, a little thankful that he had heard what he had heard, so there were some loyal World Eaters and Salamanders alive; they must have escaped the so called Cull of their Leigons. Still he was wary, very wary.

Without waiting for his answer the Heart of Truth and Fires of Nocturne rode in both firing lances at the Rage of the Imperium and as he stared at his screen parts of the vessel began exploding out, he roared to fire whatever he had left and as the missiles streaked towards the near crippled vessel he punched the air in delight when she finally exploded.

“That’s for my home” he whispered and stood up “That’s for Prospero dogs” he clasped his hands behind his back and allowed the human admiral to take his place.

“Cousin” K’lun spoke “We seek asylum within the ranks of the true Astartes”

Ramasus nodded to himself “Welcome home cousins, we shall see that Lord Russ is informed, but I warn you he may not be so accepting of what you say”

“Let the cards lay where they fall” Jhal answered “We will remain to see over your repairs until you are ready to leave”

“Your aid cousin is appreciated.”

Jhal snorted a little “We have nothing else to do cousin, my father and brothers have – changed to something I want no part off, and I am still a World Eater, but not like that”

Ramasus nodded in understanding and ordered a message be sent to Lord Russ informing him of this new development, although he had hesitated at first, so used to sending such missives to his own father. Like all in the Thousand Sons, he had been close to his father, there was a bond between the Astartes of the Thousand Sons and their Primarch that not even the Lunar Wolves or Blood Angels or indeed the Space Wolves could match. There had only been a Thousand of them in the beginning that had been free of the Flesh Change and, with his own powers and his own selflessness Magnus had saved the Legion, he had brought the Thousand Sons back from the brink of extinction, which in itself was the truest reason to have such a close bond with him. it did not always work and occasionally the Flesh Change took over, indeed Lord Ahrimans own genetic brother had succumbed to it so he, more then others was aware of the damage such changes did.

It was more then that, Magnus was their father, their progenitor and their teacher, he knew each and every Thousand Son by name, he knew each and every member of the Spireguard by name, he cherished all of them as one big part of Prospero’s heart and now, now with their father in whatever state he may be in and Prospero gone they were a Legion without a father, a Legion without a home and for the moment, one without a soul.

The space battle raged for hours, losses incurred on both sides but through sheer dint of bloody mindedness, the World Eaters were pushed back and away from Prospero. The greatest battle was forged by the Conqueror, Angrons vessel, the Hrafnkel Russ’s’ Vessel and The Photep, the vessel of the Thousand Sons. Skarlds would later tell it as the greatest dance in space. As the Thousand Sons and Space Wolves left what had been Prospero space towards the world of Kegara the Photep and Hrafnkel closed around the Conqueror to prevent it from following.

The dance had begun with Angron ordering all his guns to take them out piecemeal but, with Russ commanding his vessel and Bjorn lending his considerable knowledge to Ahriman it was not as easy as the Red Angel first thought and he cursed his laxness. If it were any other commander he might have been able to crush them but he was against his brother Russ and that was never to be underestimated. The Wolves and the Thousand Sons moved in synchronised harmony whilst The World Eaters attempted to come close enough to dispense boarding parties.

++ Lord Russ, perhaps now would be a good time to leave the battle, my apologies Lord but you do have Lord Magnus aboard and the Thousand Sons will need to know that he is still alive. I cannot risk Angron getting a lucky shot ++

The line was silent for a moment and Bjorn thought for one moment he had offended the Great Wolf, so he was surprised when a dry booming chuckle came over his line.

++ Always trying to tell me what to do aren’t you cub ++

++ Maybe because my balls are big enough to do just that Lord Russ ++

Russ laughed ++ Very well we will head for the jump point, be sure to be behind us, I will not have my brothers’ flagship made into tiny atoms ++  
Bjorn glanced at Ahriman and nodded ++ We will cover you Lord and we will not be far behind ++

The battle seemed to be over but as the Photep began to turn to cover the Hrafnkel the Conqueror took out her engines with one shot that sent the engineering teams rushing to aid the stricken engines.

“Lord Ahriman, there are voided spaces on decks twenty through to twenty –five” One of the bridge crew alerted him.

“I can see that” Ahriman grimly replied.

Magos Yvelen bowed his head and leant in “My Lord First Captain, we will not be able to repair her quick enough, we are dead in the water to quote an old Terran phrase, I will need more time then we have”

Bjorn joined them and glanced at the readouts, it was true and he could already see the launch bays open up with boarding tubes from the World Eaters vessel. The gunners took some out in mid flight but they would not be able to take them all out and what limited shields they had would not last long.

“I think we are in for a manonman shit kicking” He retorted as easily as if he were breaking wind.

The Magos blanched at the blunt words of Bjorn and Ahriman simply hid his smile and turned his attention to the crew. He knew that once those whoresons got on board there would be no escape. He pressed the inter-ship vox

“All Astartes prepare to repel boarders!”

Bjorn walked alongside him life boats were being launched towards the Hrafnkel as per the Librarians orders that all civilians were to be off the vessel, he had already alerted the Wolf King but had insisted that the Photep would stand her ground it was important that their father got to his new world so that he could still help his brothers. Russ who had never been one to walk away from the fight had been quite admirable of the First Captain he told them to send as many civilians as they could.

When Ahriman had seen the civilians’ leader on the Photep a woman by the name of Yasmin she had said they would send the children over, with their mothers, the rest of them would fight. It had taken him and Bjorn quite by surprise. So much so that the grizzled Space Wolf started getting a little respect for the Prosprons, they had lost their homes, their world and more then likely loved ones. All they had left was to fight and gain some measure of self respect back. So it was agreed that those who could fight would stay, those who couldn’t fight would go to the Primarchs flagship.

Ahriman also sent some Astartes from his company back with them as escort as did Bjorn. There was another reason and the Sergeants that went back were silenced when it was explained to them, should anything happen to Bjorn and Ahriman and the remainder then someone needed to keep those civilians alive. With all that done and the Bridge keeping them informed of where the boarding tubes were heading they readied themselves.

 

The sound of metal crashing to the floor was the sound of hell coming to the Photep, within moments of each other like some macabre synchronised dance the World Eaters came aboard the Thousand Sons Flagship. They were ordered to kill everyone aboard, they were ordered to kill everyone except Ahriman, and he was to be taken captive. The battle in the corridors of the regal vessel began almost immediately, the Rout and the Psykers working side by side to cut off the intruders and corral them, corner them then kill them. It no longer mattered that these were cousins, Astartes, part of a brotherhood that should not be at odds like this; all that mattered was that they were put down and put down fast.

Bolter fire racked the corridors killing World Eater, Thousand Son and Space Wolf alike. Human warriors were thrown through the air as Krak grenades scattered their far more fragile bodies to the four winds. Ahriman and his Sekhmet stared as a beast the likes of which they had never seen before prowled through the corridor before them, the remains of the same human woman that had been so eager to fight within its mouth.

Its skin was crimson and every psychic attack against it seemed to make it stronger and Ahriman quickly realised it was the collar that grew out of its neck, almost like a Librarians hood. Its teeth were massive and dripped saliva and blood, its claws caused great rents in the floor as it walked and almost before anyone could react, it moved with the speed of lightning and took down Kareem, one of the newly appointed Thousand Sons, he roared in pain which was cut off with a gout of blood as the Flesh Hound bit him in two. The Thousand Sons moved backwards not sure how to deal with such a manifestation of evil and before they could even think, Lerasus was taken down, loosing his arm.

A giant shape moved past the Sekhmet and grappled with the beast like it was wrestling a Bear, Ahriman heaved a sigh of relief as Odin, and one of Bjorn’s retinue prised the massive jaws of the beast open and, despite the horrendous wounds on his arms and face yelled for a grenade. Masala tossed a grenade into the open jaws and at the last moment Odin dived out the way, the beast made to move after him, stopped then with an almost comical expression on its face exploded into large chunks of meat and bone.

Ahriman helped the Space Wolf up and nodded “My thanks Cousin”

“Damn thing took down three of our Stormseers before Bjorn realised no psychic powers worked against it, no matter the form.” Odin explained “he sent me to warn you that they are all over the vessel and have killed many” Odin shrugged off the aid of Naseen the Thousand Sons Apothecary then, remembered his manners “My apologies Apothecary; there are far more needful warriors of your ministrations.”

“That thing could have poisoned you” Naseen concluded “The moment you feel any different then you tell me”

The Space Wolf inclined his head and returned his attention to Ahriman “They want you”

“They said what?”

“We intercepted a vox transmission, one of our brothers served with the World Eaters once and learnt their battle cant, and they have orders to leave none alive, save you First Captain”

Ahrimans face set in a grim line and a shadow seemed to cross his face that had the Space Wolf making a ward across his chest. He raised his Hequa Staff above his head and snarled in defiance.

“If they think they can take me then so be it, but it will not be as a willing lamb to their slaughter, I am Ahzek Ahriman, the First Librarian, The First Captain and the leader of the Corvidare, there will be no surrender and if I am to die here then let it be as a warrior of the true Imperium, not one corrupt by an Emperor who has embraced that which he so long denied” His force staff began to glow and Ahriman clenched it tighter “Hear me all Thousand Sons and sons of Russ, let not one of these dogs survive, if we are to die then let it be as honourable men and women fighting for the Imperial Truth!”

All across the vox were roars of affirmation from Thousand Sons and Space Wolves and the humans that remained.

“For Prospero, for Fenris, for Magnus and for Russ!” He intoned, never having ever believed that he would say such a chant in his life where the Space Wolves and Thousand Sons were concerned.

It galvanised the remaining forces and once more titanic battles were fought along the many corridors of the Photep. Deep within her engine room to the bridge where World Eaters had broken through and were battling the Sekhmet and Rout for control of the bridge, the human bridge crew were dead, cut down by the savage World Eaters, too insane in their own blood lust to care where the blood flowed, just that it flowed. Bjorn and Ahriman fought side by side around them lay the bodies of World Eaters and their demonic hounds, every warrior in red and grey realised that the Skarlds and the record keepers of Prospero, would forever write in the legends of their legion of how two giants, who had been for many years enemies and mistrusting of each other, cast aside their differences and fought like brothers in arms.

 

Ahriman raised his bolter and fired, his left arm broken by a World Eater chainaxe, the owner of the axe now lay in a pool of his own blood where Bjorn had blown his head off. Ahriman pushed the larger Bjorn down and fired point blank into the face of a World Eater who had gone berserk, his face was a hideous parody of what he had once been and the Librarian believed he could see the implants almost bulging from their seams, as if they were going to burst through.

++ My lord ++ The voice of Magos Yvelen came across Ahrimans vox link.

++ Make it quick Priest, I am a little busy ++ Ahriman fired again, his enhanced physiology flooding pain suppressants to his broken arm, but he had no time to allow it to knit back together for he was constantly dancing with Bjorn to take out more of the enemy.

It was as if the World Eaters were determined to capture Ahriman, then again he supposed they dare not return to their father empty handed. Everyone was aware how Angron dealt with those who had failed him in ways that were not excusable.

++ We are ready to resume our journey ++

++ What are you waiting for? ++ Bjorn yelled ++ get us the hell out of here! ++

Ahriman chuckled to himself as he heard the protests of the Magos who was not happy at how the Space Wolf had spoken to him, with an impatient sigh he cut the Magos off.

++ Magos, as Captain Bjorn so rightly said, get us the hell out of here, NOW ++

Bjorn heard mighty tread falls and was about to swear when he saw the magnificent dreadnaughts that stood at each end of the corridor. One wore the livery of the Thousand Sons and heard Ahriman whisper the name Turolis, the second wore the livery of the Space Wolves and he whispered the name “Kraken”

The two dreadnaughts waited until their brothers were out of the way and unleashed their hell upon the pirates that dared to soil the decks of this blessed vessel. Mighty chaingun fire shredded the armour of the World Eaters like it was nothing more then scrap, giant flamers engulfed the Astartes lighting their white and blue armour to almost glowing proportions. When it was over the smell of scorched transhuman flesh was almost unbearable, even to Ahriman and Bjorn. They felt the Photep lurch almost drunkenly as her engines were once more started and then move away to re-join their fleet.

Ahriman lay on his back, Bjorn beside him and despite the seriousness of the situation the two Astartes began to laugh, a victory laugh and one of relief.

++ We have enchained some of the treacherous dogs First Captain ++ Turolis informed Ahriman.

Ahriman, too tired to even look up blipped his acknowledgement and just lay on the deck of his ship and laughed.

 

Horus stood looking down at Magnus. He looked around and pulled a seat over and sat beside his broken brothers’ body. He rested a giant hand over Magnus’s and remained silent for a while. They had no idea if even Magnus’s physiology would heal the damage wrought by Angron and it was not as if they could ask their father for help. For the first time in his life Horus felt apologetic for all the mistrust he had regarding Magnus.

His brother had sacrificed his body to defend his sons, his daughters and his home, he fought as any Primarch would fight and he was a true son of the Emperor. He lowered his head as Magnus opened his eye.

“Your words never hurt me Horus” He quietly spoke “We are warriors, but warriors of a different nature is all, never stopped us from being brothers”

Horus raised his head and smiled briefly “Your warriors are on Kegara. Your legion was dealt a severe blow Magnus and I have no right to ask this of you, after all you have endured…..”

“You want me to be the one to strike father down when the time arrives” It was not a question. Horus nodded.

Every single one of the Primarchs knew that if it came to an all out battle with the Emperor then only Magnus could even hope to beat him on that level. Magnus was silent for a moment or two, almost as if he weighing something up in his mind.

“My body may never heal but, when it comes to striking father then I will be the one to do it. Horus”

“Yes Brother?”

“I want to go to Kegara; I must rest and replenish what strength I have”

“Russ is already making those arrangements” Horus assured him and a smile crossed his face “We were all wrong about the Thousand Sons Crimson King”

Magnus laughed a little “My sons are warriors true, but they are also knowledge gatherers, knowledge is power Horus, and we will need all that in the coming days….for when we defeat the Emperor, mankind will need a new Emperor” He glanced at his brother “and there is only one man for that job, the Thousand Sons will pledge their loyalty to Horus Lupercal”

Horus was taken aback and before he could protest that there were others more able then he, Gulliman for example who already ruled an empire or Sanguineous Magnus had closed his eye. Horus got to his feet and bowed his head before walking away. Russ came in just after and sat beside Magnus.

The weary Crimson King opened his eye briefly and met his stoic brothers’ features, then closed his eye once more and fell into a sleep. Russ took the crimson hand in his and held in the grasp of a warrior and leaning over he kissed his brothers forehead. He had heard of the battle that Bjorn and Ahriman fought and led, He leant close to Magnus’s ears and whispered.

“Our sons are true brothers, from now till the end my brother”

The lights went down and Leman Russ remained with his brother until he had reached the new home world of the Thousand Sons.


End file.
